One Week Off
by SarahSwan7
Summary: This will be a fairly short and lighthearted series about the Spooks and summer (I have borrowed the characters from Series 5)
1. Chapter 1

"One week off. The trick, see, is to balance it at the time where not only the Sun is high but the workload is too. That way, you get to enjoy the weather and skive the work," Zaf concluded, propping his feet up on his desk.

"Oh really? What if you take your week off and when you get back there's even more work than before?" questioned Jo.

"That is when late-night drinking comes in handy."

...

"Sunshine, yes. Very good for my garden," commented Malcolm as a shard of light pierced the forgery suite. He had been mumbling to no-one in particular but Ros happened to be walking past and offered a response.

"And the garden is a good place to enjoy a cup of tea? Although, the very notion of drinking a hot drink on a hot day is beyond me."

"A day is never too hot for tea," said Malcolm defensively, unsure as to whether blush at Ros' small smile or match it with one of his own.

...

"Air conditioning is the most pointless invention ever to have been inflicted upon this modern world in which we live. It simply propels the stifling air towards you at a higher velocity. Whenever some bright young spark invents a device to chill the air in the room first before swishing it about I will be the first person to invest it in, I tell you."

"Or... you could just open the window?" Adam demonstrated, pushing up the glassy frame in the archives for Harry's approval.

"And now we shall be subjected to insects of every variety. I think I'll stick with the air-con, or excuse of. I'm telling you, the next time HR come round trying to check on our wellbeing I will let them know that my wellbeing is being seriously compromised by the stuffiness of our working environment."

"And the stuffiness of our workers," Adam dared to comment with a grin.

"If you were to _fall_ out of that window, Adam, I could make it look like an accident, you know." Harry's eyes didn't move from the file he was now reading.

"Message received and understood."


	2. Chapter 2

"Ruth, want some strawberries?" Jo popped open a Tupperware box and rolled her seat over to Ruth's desk. "I was at my Mum's and she grows hundreds of them."

"Thank you." Ruth selected a berry and chewed appreciatively. "Reminds me of Wimbledon."

"Yeah, but these don't put you nine pounds out of pocket," Jo joked.

"The prices of strawberries are truly extortionate," commented Ruth.

"See, this is the kind of evil we fight to protect Ruth. There will be a day where Wimbledon serves strawberries for under a fiver."

"One can dream," replied Ruth lightly.

...

"Seriously? You're taking a week off to just sit at home?"

"It sounds like a completely stressless, inexpensive and convenient option," replied Ros.

"You missed an adjective: boring," Adam concluded. "Besides, don't all women love to get a tan?"

"All women with no aims other than making themselves aesthetically pleasing for beach creeps," said Ros.

"Beach creeps?" asked Adam. "This sounds like the beginning of a story."

"Athens, 1999. Let's just say that a fistful of sand in his face stopped his gawking."

"Remind me to not go to the beach with you."

...

"Oh, come on!" Zaf yelled for the third time.

"Which particular working task is providing this much excitement, Zafar?" Harry questioned.

Zaf lowered his gaze sheepishly. "The England-Italy match."

"How are we doing?"

"It's 1 all," replied Zaf glumly. "I'll get back to surveillance."

"Watch the rest," instructed Harry. "The World Cup is only every four years so make the most of it. Report back to me with the score. Consider it your... patriotic duty," Harry smiled.

Zaf didn't need to be told twice.


	3. Chapter 3

"Damn," Adam cursed, watching the blue teddy slump back onto the pile of other assorted stuffed toys.

"Any luck?" asked Ruth. They had spent the day doing surveillance on the funfair down the road as someone on their watch list visited here regularly with his two kids, but they'd had no luck. On their break Adam had decided to try and win something for Wes.

"I've spent nearly a tenner and haven't so much as clasped a paw," said Adam downheartedly.

"Here, let me have a go." Ruth fumbled for some change in her pocket and began manoeuvring the crane, positioning it perfectly above the teddy bear in question and lifting it free.

"Ruth..." Adam was incredulous. "I've tried more than thirty times and you just did that in one."

"My talents aren't fully realised as an analyst," Ruth said lightly. "That, and my father always used to take me to the funfair."

...

"This weather has been lovely, and I'm thankful, I really am, but my fuchsias have really been suffering," said Ruth, handing Malcolm his freshly brewed mug of tea.

"I understand," he said simply, taking a sip. "It seems we've been having the same nightmare."

...

"Better late than never, eh Ros?" Zaf quipped as Ros arrived sufficiently later than the other workers had done.

"I got stuck behind a bloody ice-cream van, Zaf. An ice-cream van decided to pull up outside our working establishment and block my bloody way."

Zaf couldn't resist cracking a smile much to her annoyance. "He won't be laughing when I track him down and cut off all of his suppliers and cancel his road license," Ros grumbled.

"Ros, you're forgetting what's important here," Zaf leapt from his chair and moved from his desk to console her.

"Oh really, Zaf? Please, do enlighten me."

"The fact that the van is so close means I don't have to walk as far for my lunch."

"Ice-cream for lunch?" Ros wrinkled her nose. "How old are you?"

"What flavour do you want? My treat."

She couldn't decline.


	4. Chapter 4

"Have you got any plans then, Jo?" Ros enquired. Not that she was particularly interested, but it was a common topic of conversation and she'd be seen as more of a bitch if she didn't involve herself in it.

"Seeing family mainly. I'm not really one for beaches. Sand is horrible; it's everywhere and just refuses to leave."

"Funny," said Ros. "Bit like our JIC friends." She nodded towards the swarm of angry Joint Intelligence Committee staff gathered in Harry's office, Oliver Mace amongst them.

"I'd rather brave a beach than that lot any day," Jo concluded, with Ros' agreement.

...

"C'mon mate," Zaf wheedled in that irresistibly charming voice that he could conjure up at the drop of a hat. "Who else would? Jo and Ros would roll their eyes, Ruth would look horrified-"

"Why not ask Malcolm?" Adam deadpanned.

Zaf grinned. "The summer whiskey challenge is something I doubt Malcolm would be a part of."

"And something I don't intend to be a part of either, Zaf," said Adam, although he was lying through his teeth in an attempt to seem professional.

"Okay. A compromise. A summer whiskey day. Just a day. We haven't been to the pub for ages," Zaf pleaded.

"Alright mate. What does the winner take?"

"The pride of being champion," Zaf decided. "Yes, I shall like that very much."

"And I shall like taking that title from you very much," replied Adam with a grin.

"Not a chance, Carter."

...

"One week of freedom, then?" Ruth began hesitantly. "How will you spend it?"

"It's funny, really. I'm so used to working that when I get the chance to relax I find that I can't." Harry was frowning.

"I have the same problem. I usually end up reading books," Ruth confessed. Harry nodded, a smile beginning to warm his features.

"Well, that's not a bad habit to have, is it?"


	5. Chapter 5

"What's this?" Ros picked up the multicoloured cylinder of sugar perched on her desk suspiciously.

"I went to Brighton for the weekend. Brighton Rock is to die for," declared Ruth. "I thought everyone might like some."

"Thanks for the gesture Ruth, but I think Zaf may appreciate it more," said Ros. Across the room he looked up and grinned, having obviously been listening in - the empty wrapper on his desk also told that he had devoured his own already.

"Oh, try some," Ruth coaxed. "You might like it."

Ros peeled off the cellophane and broke off a chunk, playing it between her teeth.

"Not bad," she concluded. "Thank you, Ruth."

Zaf's face dropped.

...

"Bloody postcards," Adam muttered, pacing into the forgery suite.

"I like postcards," Malcolm commented somewhat defensively.

"Yeah, but they never actually arrive," replied Adam. "I promised Wes that he'll get the one from when I went to Egypt but it's been two weeks since I sent it."

"Would you like me to check?" offered Malcolm.

"What, hack the Royal Mail?" Adam asked.

"I don't see why not. No harm done checking whether a young boy will receive his postcard," Malcolm shrugged, tapping keys. "It's waiting to be delivered, it seems. Should arrive tomorrow."

"I owe you, Malcolm."

...

"Harry, what's wrong?" asked Jo tentatively, immediately sensing her boss' distress over the phone.

"I need to know what I'm about to tell you will be kept utterly confidential," Harry hissed.

"Of course, Harry. What's wrong?"

"I got sunburnt and I look like a bloody lobster."

Jo bit back a laugh. "How can I help with that?"

"I need to get back to my office without anyone noticing. Can you get rid of everyone for the next half an hour?"

"I can try. I'll say you want them to meet with their assets and I'm to stay and take status reports?" she suggested.

"That's great. Thanks, Jo." Harry hung up and Jo allowed herself a laugh.

Thirty minutes later it became evident why her boss was so distressed - it appeared as if he had been doused in red paint, so severe was the Sun's impact on his face and neck.

"Harry, didn't you-"

"I wore sun cream, yes. Although I doubt whether any Sun-dissuading product was actually involved in the greasy £4 bottle that I purchased," he grumbled.

She tried to hide her smile but Harry caught it, and soon they were both unable to stifle their laughter.


	6. Chapter 6

"I made lemonade!" said Ruth triumphantly, plunking the pitcher fresh from the fridge on Zaf's desk. "Would you like a glass?"

"Very much so," said Zaf, already able to smell the fresh lemon scent. He took a sip carefully, feeling the bubbles tickle his nose and the sharp tang and sugary rush of the drink.

"Ruth, you're a woman of many talents," Zaf concluded, topping up his glass.

...

"I'm all ready!" Jo announced, seemingly to no-one. Malcolm peered round the corner of the Forgery suite and saw her wandering around the Grid, dragging a massive purple suitcase.

"Zaf? Adam?" she tried.

"They're all out," Malcolm offered. "Our operation crashed and they've gone to pick up the pieces. I've been monitoring surveillance."

Jo's shoulders dropped. "Oh right, I was just going to say goodbye. I'm off on my holiday."

"Where are you going?" Malcolm asked, attempting to sound friendly and conversational.

"Greece, for a week," she said, a smile warming her face. "I'd better head off then... could you tell them I'll see them soon?" She sounded uncertain.

"Of course," said Malcolm, feeling a steady blush spread across his face. She had come to say goodbye to the team, her friends, and he was her only company.

He watched Jo drag the suitcase into the pods and struggle with its weight, and he found himself going to help her.

"Thank you Malcolm," she smiled. "I hope you have a lovely holiday – well, are you off somewhere?"

"Wales, for a few days. Seeing family," he replied.

"Well, I hope you enjoy the break," Jo said. "I think it's fair to say we've all deserved it!"

"Most definitely."

...

She was running late and knew that Harry would either kill her upon arrival or worse: extra paperwork. However, when she turned up at the Grid an hour later than she said she would (the traffic had been a bitch) there was a rather prominent distraction.

"Harry, we're going to a meeting with the Home Sec, not a barn dance," she quipped, gesturing to the massive sunhat perched on his head, reddened ears poking out from each side.

"Protection from the Sun is very important, Ros, and seeing as the six sun creams I have sampled seem to have had no effect whatsoever I have resorted to this. Now, if you've finished criticising my clothing we can head off - the Home Sec has rung four times asking where you are. It seems you made quite an impression on him the last time you met."

"And I'd say you'll make quite an impression with your dazzling headwear piece," Ros replied smoothly, not about to give up so easily on her mockery. "Let's not keep him waiting."

...

**A/N: Thanks for reading – the next chapter will be the last...**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This is it! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

"Zaf," Malcolm called, summoning every ounce of courage he possessed as the young man approached.

"Malcolm," he nodded.

"Well, it's been rather hot lately, hasn't it?" Malcolm started, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah, sure has," Zaf smiled easily, an eyebrow beginning to rise. "Were you going to ask something?"

Malcolm sighed. "I need some new sunglasses but the last pair I picked out around, I'm not sure, twenty years ago... well, my old colleagues laughed at me, and I was wondering if you could-"

"Pick you out some sunglasses?" Zaf finished for the other man gently.

"Yes. I'd appreciate it very much," exhaled Malcolm.

Zaf grinned, slipping on his own pair. "Not a problem," he said, strolling back to his desk.

"But none with studs!" Malcolm called in mild horror at the embellishment on his colleague's sunglasses.

Zaf threw a smile over his shoulder. "If you say so."

...

"Hey, Adam," said Jo, wandering over to his desk. "You've not moved all day."

"10/10 for observation," he smirked, but decided to confide. "Look at my feet."

"Why..." said Jo hesitantly, leaning down and beginning to laugh.

"It's not funny!" Adam protested. "I couldn't find my own flip-flops and I found Fiona's old ones at the back of the wardrobe and-"

"You could have worn normal shoes?" Jo suggested.

"But it's summer and it's too bloody hot," Adam groaned, wiggling his toes.

"Well, this is made a little more hilarious by the fact that I think we have the same pair," Jo informed him, flicking off one of her flip-flops and chucking it to Adam so he could compare. His eye roll told all.

"Now, this is the making of a great story..." Jo started, watching the frown spread across Adam's face.

"What do you want?"

"Do all my filing for the next month."

"The next month?!"

"I can picture it now – 'Section Chief Adam Carter strolls into work wearing flip flops with-' "  
"Alright, alright. You're a cruel woman, Jo Portman."

"And you look dazzling in pink footwear, Adam Carter."

...

"Surveillance," Harry said shortly, seemingly disgusted at the term.

"On the beach," Malcolm added with equal distaste.

A man on their watch list was apparently a regular visitor with his grandson, however, and there had been no-one else on hand to monitor him – Adam and Zaf were undercover together, Ros was held up in the Foreign Office and Ruth and Jo were sifting through heaps of paperwork - and as beaches aren't particularly well equipped with CCTV cameras, it seemed this particular operation would have to be faced head-on.

"It seems we've really drawn the short straw, doesn't it?" Malcolm commented, watching Harry attempt to adjust his deckchair. Unfortunately, the whole thing collapsed, sinking into the sand along with a very agitated Head of Section D.

"It does indeed."


End file.
